


Suburban Dramas

by DroughtofApathy



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Romance, Dating without realizing, Disapproving Stuffy Neighbor, F/F, Living in a Cul-de-Sac, Minor Gay Panic, Skinny Dipping, Smut, farmers market
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DroughtofApathy/pseuds/DroughtofApathy
Summary: Marissa had a perfectly decent life, thank you very much. She had a garden, a successful booth at the local farmer's market, and as the neighborhood lesbian, most people left her alone. But being neighborly, she didn't think twice about bringing a nice pie to the new next-door neighbor and...oh...oh shit...she's hot.





	Suburban Dramas

Marissa hadn't paid much attention to the moving trucks when they disturbed the peaceful midday suburban atmosphere. Which was to say, she’d peeked out her kitchen window like all of the soccer moms on the block, nosily spying in on the new neighbor. Well, she supposed she had the most right, her living in the house right next door.

For years, the owners of the house had rented it out to a whole host of revolving clientele. Most being families with tiny and loud children, Marissa chose to ignore them. Sometime last year, the owners finally had enough, fixed up the place, and put it on the market.

The mothers on the block had been gossiping about it for weeks, hoping for a nice – white – family. No one thought to share their hopes with Marissa, of course. Well, that’s what happened when you were the only single household on the block. Not to mention the only non-white person. Honestly, not even a token minority family. Well, Marissa supposed she was the token minority. Either way, her hope for someone even slightly different than the nuclear family seemed fairly farfetched.

Then she saw her. She drove a pretty nice-looking car, though Marissa couldn’t tell a Mustang from an SUV. The moment the woman stepped out onto her driveway, Marissa was fascinated. She didn’t have a pantheon of children or a husband with her, and she looked dressed for fast-paced rat racing. The woman looked really good in a suit, Christ. Marissa could manage, but just didn’t have the height for it. This woman certainly didn’t seem to be struggling in the height department. She must have had a good foot on Marissa – who admittedly was very tiny, but that’s Vietnamese genetics for you.

The woman’s dark red hair was swept up and held back with a clip, and she wore some seriously impressive high heels. Marissa decided she’d definitely have to make that welcoming pie sometime later in the week once the woman had time to settle.

On Wednesday morning, once Marissa had ascertained whether or not the woman went to work at that time – she didn’t – Marissa wrapped up her pie and brought it over.

The woman answered the door, and for just a moment, Marissa found herself struck dumb. She wore high-waisted black short shorts, and a checkered red blouse that tied just under her breasts. And because she also wore sandal wedges, it put her modest amount of cleavage right at eye level for Marissa who was way too gay for this.

“Oh, um, hello,” the woman said, blinking down at her. “May I help you?” Quickly tilting her neck back, Marissa refocused her gaze at the woman’s face. Holding up the pie, she introduced herself, incredibly proud that she hadn’t stumbled over her words. Upon seeing the pie, the woman, who introduced herself as Heather, smiled broadly, stepping aside and inviting her in for coffee.

“Oh, thank you, but I don’t really drink coffee,” Marissa said apologetically.

“I have tea, if you prefer,” Heather said, undeterred. “Anything really. Soda, whiskey, lemonade.” Marissa laughed, opting for lemonade. She followed Heather into the kitchen, admiring the modern décor. Marissa didn’t really get invited to people’s houses often, but she assumed most didn’t decorate like this.

“Boy the mothers are going to love you,” Marissa muttered sarcastically, taking in Marissa’s appearance fully. Turning back to the table with two glasses of lemonade, Heather asked what she’d said. “Oh, um, I just asked what it was brought you to the neighborhood?”

“Oh, I’m an accountant,” Heather explained. “I’ve recently just set up my own firm here in town. I did some research into the places most in need of an accountant, and cross referenced it with places I wouldn’t mind living, so here I am all the way from Santa Monica, California.” Ah, that would explain the outfits.

Marissa commented that people around here, her included, did their own taxes, but everyone complained about it nonstop. Heather would definitely find herself an impressive base here. Heather smiled at that. Marissa did, however, warn her that the neighborhood women would relentlessly try to marry her off to some eligible bachelor as soon as they could. Not just for her own sake, but for theirs too.

“You’re, and I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, a _highly_ attractive woman,” Marissa said with a slight smirk. At that, Heather blushed prettily. “You’re a threat, darling. And honey, this cul-de-sac is full of scandal and gossip galore, only half of it ever true. One day you’ll wake up and find you’ve impressively slept with half the men on the block. Trust me, it’s not easy to get them to cut that shit out.”

“How did you ever manage?” Heather asked. “I assume you’re not married, but please correct me if I’m wrong.” Marissa shrugged modestly. She just, she said with another slight smirk, publicly came out of the closet. Being an open lesbian buried rumors of affairs with men in the ground real quick. To her relief, Heather laughed. Marissa took her leave soon after, deciding that she definitely liked this woman. Oh, this town could use a little shaking up.

A few days later, Marissa was just taking care of some early evening hedge clipping when she heard a sliding glass door open. She glanced up and nearly dropped her clippers in shock. Heather wore a vintageesque polka dot strapless bikini, oversized sunglasses, and those sandal wedges she seemed so terribly fond of.

“Do you always dress like a vintage pin up girl, honey?” Marissa asked when Heather sauntered over to her. She really just needed victory rolls at this point. Heather laughed, striking a pose. “Seems a bit late for sun bathing.”

“Oh, no,” Heather shook her head. “Not with my pale skin. Evening sun is much less likely to make me look completely red. Care to join me? You seem to be the only house without a pool in this neighborhood.” And Marissa wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity like that. She appeared at Heather’s back gate about ten minutes later wearing a simple black bikini she’d owned for god knows how long.

Despite their intent to soak up the last of the day’s sun, and maybe go for a dip in the pool, the two women ended up lounging around in the hot tub.

“The house came with a pool when I bought it,” Marissa said, sighing at the temperature of the water. “But after calculating the cost to usage ratio, I decided that it just wasn’t worth it. I don’t really like pools, so I just took it out and expanded my garden. That has turned out to be more profitable. So, every weekend I’ll head over to the farmer’s market to pedal my wares. These people love their organic vegetables.”

“I must admit,” Heather said. “I’m a sucker for homegrown vegetables. And your garden is actually a work of art. Not just the vegetables, but the flowers especially. I love hydrangeas.”

Teasingly telling Heather that she’d have to cut her a bunch, Marissa thoroughly enjoyed the way Heather giggled and blushed. Then, just remembering, Marissa veered into a more serious note. Because, she explained, her garden was actually certified organic – something she’d worked stupidly hard for – she couldn’t have anything sprayed even remotely near her garden. She had an agreement with everyone on the block and beyond not to use any sort of sprays, pesticides, weed killers, etc.

“Technically speaking, because I’m just selling on the weekends I don’t need an official certification to label my produce organic, but it’s a pride thing, you know?” Marissa shrugged, reaching over to adjust the jets. Heather nodded without hesitation. Slouching down, she let the water wash over her pale shoulders, before standing up and getting out entirely.

“Be right back,” Heather said, heading for the pool. “I need to cool off for a second.” Marissa watched Heather gracefully dive into the deeper end, shooting across the length with ease. Without so much as surfacing for breath, she managed to make it to the end and back. Shooting up, she quickly hoisted herself up and out, brushing her hair out of her face.

Plopping down on the edge of the hot tub right next to Marissa, Heather, swung her long legs in.

“Might want to adjust yourself,” Marissa said, pointedly looking at her chest. Heather glanced down to see that her suit had been dislodged from the swim, leaving her right nipple and ghostly white breast completely out. She squealed, quickly readjusting her top, but though she turned bright red, she laughed.

Ruefully, she commented that only a few days into knowing her, Marissa had already seen her charms. With a wink, Marissa answered that she simply had to be a lucky woman. Which only made Heather laugh and blush harder.

Shortly after, Marissa returned home with an invitation for Heather to join her for dinner sometime that week at her convenience. She was planning on making salmon. Heather gladly accepted, seeing Marissa out the back gate. For just a moment, she admired Marissa’s garden in the near darkness. Flowers always did look so pretty in the moonlight.

Unsure what to wear for their dinner, Marissa peered into her closet. She hadn’t specified how formal an occasion it was to be, though she imagined dinner between friends couldn’t be terribly fancy. Well, it wasn’t as if this neighborhood was itching to invite Marissa to many dinners, so she couldn’t be expected to know the proper etiquette. Screw it, Marissa thought, grabbing a random blouse off the rack. Heather could be the fashion show for the both of them.

She chose long black pants on the grounds that mosquitoes seemed to be heat seeking missiles when it came to her, and it was too nice a night to eat inside.

Heather rang the doorbell right on time, and just like Marissa predicted she looked lovely. Her off-the-shoulder blouse cut nicely across her collarbone, and perhaps for Marissa’s sake she’d opted not to wear heels. Marissa had made no such sacrifice, preferring not to strain her neck looking up any more than she had to.

“God, it smells wonderful. I’m starving,” Heather commented, setting her bag down on the kitchen island. “I brought wine. Not sure how decent it is, but it’s highly recommended. You’ve got different wines here than back in California.”

Though Heather insisted on helping with something, Marissa ordered her to sit as she finished up. So, reluctantly, Heather perched herself on a stool, chatting away about her week. Marissa, she said, had been right. Already a few of the neighborhood women had tried to set her up with someone.

“Oh?” Marissa asked, trying not to appear too interested or irritated. Heather shrugged, saying she thought she’d managed to buy herself some time by saying how she wanted to get settled before she even thought about dating anyone. Which, Marissa answered, made sense, but certainly wouldn’t stop the would-be-matchmakers. Heather sighed ruefully, swirling her glass of wine as she watched Marissa put the finishing touches on the salad.

“Mind getting the door?” Marissa asked, holding a salad in one hand and a soup bowl in the other.

“You’re not having salad?” Heather asked when they sat. Marissa laughed amusedly. Despite, she said, extensively caring for a garden and holding a certified organic title, she didn’t actually like vegetables all that much, and had never eaten a salad in her life. At that, Heather couldn’t help laughing.

After finishing their appetizers, Heather tried to help clear the table, and was once again rebuked. So, she wandered over to the garden, smiling at the artistically done signs and neat little rows.

“You’re allowed to pick a flower if you like,” Marissa said, setting the two plates down. Heather scanned the flower beds, finally settling on two black-eyed Susans. Returning to the table, Heather tucked one behind her ear, and the other in Marissa’s hair.

“Lovely,” she said. Then, mouth watering slightly, she turned her attention to the meal in front of her just missing Marissa’s soft smile.

Marissa sighed, savoring the taste of the pepper flakes. For some strange reason, despite the chill of the night, she felt pleasantly warm. But deciding not to question it, she simply finished her salmon without giving it another thought.

They decided, after one too many mosquito bites despite the sprigs of rosemary Marissa put in the candles, to take their dessert inside. This time, Heather refused to take no for an answer, and grabbed the plates before Marissa could move. Sighing in amusement, Marissa opened the door for them.

Dessert turned out to be a plate of homemade cookies, so the two women worked quickly to wash and put up the dishes before settling on the couch. Heather poured herself another glass of wine while Marissa, who could barely handle one glass because of tiny body weight, switched to a glass of milk with her cookies.

“You know,” Heather admitted. “I was honestly a bit worried about making friends in this new town. But, um, I think I’ve done pretty well for myself.” Marissa flushed beneath her darkened skin, waving her away. But she allowed Heather to hug her anyway, making sure to let her know she only accepted hugs from a select number of people. That warm and cozy feeling was back.

It wasn’t until that night, just moments before drifting off to sleep, that Marissa realized exactly why. Jerking awake, she suddenly sat bolt upright.

“Oh, _no_ ,” she moaned, feeling dread and apprehension pooling in her stomach. Stupidly, she’d gone and developed a fucking crush on one of the few friends she had. Her _best_ friend, for god sakes. Flopping back onto her pillow, she rubbed at her eyes beneath her glasses. Now she’d never be able to sleep. Logically speaking, she knew why she liked Heather. She was smart, and funny, and insanely pretty. But really, she just had to go and fall for a – probably – straight woman. The number one rule of lesbianism.

Heather was definitely, probably, straight, right? She knew that Marissa was a lesbian, and usually gays tended to come out to each other. But maybe she just didn’t want to be out publicly, or maybe she’d never thought about it and it turned out she was bisexual or something.

Sighing, she threw back the covers, heading for the kitchen. Scrubbing at the already spotless counter, she did her best to tire herself out. But half an hour later, after dusting and vacuuming the cabinets, she conceded defeat and headed to bed.

Her hand was already between her legs, deciding to exhaust herself in another way before she yanked it out. Masturbating to thoughts of your best friend definitely crossed lines. So, with a final punch to her pillow, she forcibly closed her eyes, trying to sleep.

Surprisingly, remaining friends with the woman she had a slight crush on wasn’t too hard. Resigning herself to the fact that Heather just wouldn’t see her like that, Marissa put it out of her mind, concentrating on being just a good friend to the object of her affection.

They ended up spending most of their free time together, be it working together to cultivate Heather a little flower garden of her own, or simply talking on the phone for hours in the dead of night. Marissa never quiet had a friendship like this, and she refused to ruin it with her little crush.

“You know,” Marissa said, kneeling in the dirt as Heather sat on a beach towel. “In the early 20th century, women who loved women used to give each other violets as symbols of their affection.”

“I think I did know that, yes,” Heather answered, taking off a gardening glove to adjust her floppy hat. Though Marissa had teased her about both the hat and not wanting to get her hands – or knees – dirty, Heather stayed firm. She burned in just a few seconds of sunlight, and even with her SPF 100, she didn’t want to take any chances. The dirt was purely a prissy thing, Heather admitted readily. Plucking one of the violets, she tucked it in Marissa’s hair once more.

Marissa seemed like she was having fun playing in the dirt among the worms, so Heather disappeared inside to change into her swimsuit, and reapply her sunscreen…again.

After exhausting herself after countless laps, Heather pulled herself out, sitting on the concrete for a second.

“I’m starting to think you like flashing me,” Marissa remarked, pointing to Heather’s exposed chest, this time showing off both nipples. Cursing and blushing, Heather yanked the fabric back into place. Complaining that she never managed to tie it tight enough, she gave Marissa a pleading look.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Marissa said, washing her hands off with the hose. “Stand up.” Heather turned around, relinquishing the ties to Marissa who, with a mischievous laugh, suddenly jerked the top away, darting back. Heather yelped, crossing one arm over her breasts and making a grab for the top with the other.

“Marissa,” she whined. “C’mon, give me back my top. We’re grown women, for heaven’s sake! Quick, before someone sees me.”

“What’ll you give me?” Marissa asked, dangling the bikini top in front of her tauntingly. Grumbling that she’d throw Marissa in the pool if she didn’t give it back right away, Heather held out her hand once more.

A disapproving noise from beyond the fence caught both of their attention. Squeaking slightly at the sight of Mrs. Nelson, the most uptight and nosy of the neighbors, Heather whirled around, crossing both arms over her breasts. Quickly, Marissa handed her back her top, glaring over at Mrs. Nelson.

“Well, really,” the woman snapped. “There are children in the area. This is entirely inappropriate, and I hope it’s the last time I catch you doing something like this.” Neither of the other women took kindly to being scolded like children. With her top firmly back in place, Heather told her as much.

“Besides,” Marissa said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like your teenaged children haven’t seen breasts before. Now, please kindly mind your own business.” Looking scandalized, Mrs. Nelson stormed back inside, undoubtedly to phone up all her fellow soccer moms to gossip about the latest news on the block.

“Well that was humiliating,” Heather commented, running a hand through her wet hair. Marissa felt utterly horrible about what happened, and she apologized profusely, wringing her hands. Heather waved her away, stating that she really didn’t care what some middle-aged stick in the mud thought about her tits.

“I still feel like a complete asshole,” Marissa said, sinking back down into the dirt. “Please let me make it up to you. Tell me to do whatever you want, and I’ll do it. C’mon, hit me.” Heather pursed her lips, considering the offer. She felt more slightly embarrassed than angry, but as long as Marissa was giving her this opportunity. Then, with a sly grin, Heather told her that tomorrow night, Marissa would have to jump into the pool and swim a lap, all while totally topless. With a hand on her hip, Marissa boldly accepted.

She returned the next night, shucking off her shorts and shirt, pausing just before undoing the ties to her bikini top. Marissa tossed the scrap of fabric towards Heather, her nipples growing rock-hard in the cool air. Then, handing over her glasses for safe keeping, with a stern reminder that she was literally well beyond legally blind without them, Marissa took a deep breath and dove in.

Unable to see, she didn’t exactly swim in a straight line, but somehow or other she managed to make it there and back without slamming into a wall face first. Panting heavily, Marissa hoisted herself out of the freezing water, pushing her hair out of her face. Quickly, Heather wrapped a warm towel around the violently shivering woman.

“Hot tub?” Heather asked. Marissa nodded and, after she put her glasses back on, they both dashed to the hot water. And just to show that there were no hard feelings, Marissa stripped off her top, playfully shaking her shoulders before covering her breasts with her arms with an embarrassed giggle.

They settled into the water, much closer together with half the tub still covered by the hot tub top. Neither woman made any move to take it off, instead sitting inches apart. Both made a valiant effort to converse normally as though they weren’t sitting nearly naked in a hot tub.

This time, after safely in the privacy in her own bedroom, Marissa didn’t try very hard to stop herself while slipping a hand beneath the waistband of her underwear while thinking of her best friend. Rapidly rubbing herself to completion, she shuddered through her orgasm, finally relaxing back onto the bed. She fell asleep with damp underwear, and serious guilt.

If Heather noticed the slight change in behavior with her best friend, she didn’t ask. She did wonder, however, why Marissa suddenly seemed to tease her less, hardly said anything remotely flirty anymore, and stiffened slightly during hugs. Marissa couldn’t see how she wouldn’t. Thought she tried to be subtle about her desires, she knew it wasn’t going well.

Finally, after the third time Marissa gave some lame excuse as to why she couldn’t have dinner, Heather confronted her. And Marissa had to tell her. Unable to meet Heather’s eye, Marissa asked her to sit down. The taller woman sat, puzzled and slightly concerned.

“Is everything okay?” Heather asked. “Are you…is it health related?” Marissa shook her head, biting at her lip. “Well, is it something I’ve done? Have I offended you, or…or did someone say something? Marissa, please, tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll try to fix it.”

“It’s not you,” Marissa said, looking pained. “Just, um, just please let me speak. And please, please don’t think too terribly of me.” Taking a deep breath, she started pacing the room. “These past few months have been wonderful. You’re my best friend, and I’m so grateful that I have that. But, I’ve found myself- I’ve developed _feelings_ …for you. Um, not just platonic affection, but romantic feelings, and- and _sexual_ feelings.

And I promise, I _promise_ , I can just ignore it. Please, it’s not- it’s not- it’s my problem. We can just go back to being friends, please. I value our friendship more than anything, and I can control my emotions, I promise.”

Marissa looked at Heather pleadingly. She was near tears and wasn’t above begging at this point. But Heather started at her open-mouthed. She looked uncertainly at Marissa, not saying anything.

“Please, I’m sorry,” Marissa said, trying to salvage at least something. “It can just be like it was. Except, I promise I won’t try to flirt with you, or- or touch you, or anything that will make you uncomfortable. Please, I can do this.” Marissa looked miserable.

“I-I’m sorry,” Heather said, and Marissa visibly deflated. “Marissa. Fuck. Um, okay. Okay. I don’t- I just don’t know, I mean, I don’t think I like you in the same way, but I think I just need time to process this. I’m really sorry, I- I should go. It’s not- we can still be friends, of course. I just need time to-” Awkwardly, Heather left, glancing back regretfully.

Marissa crumpled onto an arm chair, covering her face. She could feel a lump in her throat, and that would mean tears. Inhaling sharply, she gave in, allowing the tears to fall. She’d fucked everything up like a complete fool.

“Stupid, stupid, fucking _stupid_ ,” she chastised herself, trying to regain control of her breathing. She’d mucked up a perfectly wonderful friendship with her stupid emotions, and now Heather was probably never going to speak to her again. Marissa should have just kept her mouth shut, and everything would have been okay. And sure, it would have been painful, but it would have been something. Because she really did care more about any sort of friendship with Heather than her own desires.

Dragging herself up, she trudged outside, thankful for the cover of darkness. She really didn’t need the nosy neighbors to witness her sniffling among the tomato plants. They had enough ammunition on her as it was. God, crying amidst the basil and lemongrass had to be the pinnacle of complete and utter pathetic behavior.

Dejectedly, she slowly filled her baskets in preparation for the farmer’s market. She assumed she’d be going alone. It felt so strange. The past few months, Heather liked accompanying her on Sundays, and though Marissa had been doing this alone for years, she’d become used to having company. Not to mention the extra strength Heather provided. At last, she dragged herself inside. She didn’t notice Heather watching from an upstairs window. She didn’t know the woman she so loved, felt just as miserable as her.

Three weeks passed, and still neither woman spoke to each other. Heather watched Marissa over the fence when she could. She hated this unspoken quarantine they seemed to have placed on each other. And sure, sure, Heather said she needed time, but she just didn’t know. Marissa was her best friend, and what if they started dating and fell apart? What if they just completely drifted apart, or it turned out they hated each other, or Marissa realized that Heather just wasn’t good enough for her?

Heather wasn’t gay. At least, she didn’t think she was. Maybe she was bisexual. Heather groaned, shaking her head. She’d just never really thought about women before, and though thinking about it now didn’t seem completely unappealing, she just didn’t know.

But she did know that she needed Marissa in her life. And even if she couldn’t ever return Marissa’s feelings, Heather didn’t want to live without her friend by her side. And Marissa liking her didn’t make Heather uncomfortable at all. Really, she felt flattered that someone like her would be attracted to her.

“Oh, god,” Heather said to herself, running a hand through her hair. “Shit, Marissa. I just ran. She told me she had feelings for me, and I ran like some gay panic bullshit. Okay, how do I fix this?” Heather paced back and forth. Marissa liked flowers, she reminded herself. She liked flowers, and hedgehogs, and old-fashioned journals. So, grabbing her purse, Heather headed out. She had a few stops to make, and if she hurried, she’d be able to make it to the farmer’s market before Marissa left for the day.

“I’m looking for something specific,” Heather said, examining the flowers for sale at the market. The woman running the booth tilted her head. For someone looking for a specific flower, she seemed awfully vague. She asked her customer to perhaps go into detail about what she wanted to convey. “I need to apologize to someone. They- um, they said they had feelings for me, and I didn’t react as well as I should have. I don’t, um, I don’t know if I can return their feelings, but I still want to be friends.”

The flower woman nodded, turning to her wares. She suggested several varieties, all with their own meanings. And though Heather thought they all looked lovely, one particular flower caught her eye.

“Actually, could I take a bouquet of these, please?” Heather asked, pointing to a bouquet of violets. The flower woman raised an eyebrow pointedly but nodded. Carefully, she created a small bundle, tying it off with a red ribbon.

“I’m sure she’ll love them,” the woman said, looking at Heather knowingly. Heather wasn’t so sure the woman actually meant it. Even she didn’t really know how Marissa would take being given a flower symbolically given to lovers.

“Marissa,” Heather called, finally ready. Marissa looked up from her book, startled at the interruption. When she saw Heather, she physically shrank back. Heather winced but took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry about the way I reacted,” Heather said. “I was being completely stupid, and I wish I could just redo that moment completely. Marissa, I still don’t know what to do about what you told me, but I know I don’t want to lose your friendship over this. Ever. And I didn’t really know how to apologize, so I bought you a few things.”

Anxiously, she handed Marissa the book first. It was just a basic leather-bound journal with an admittedly cheesy inscription, but Marissa really did like journals. Heather gave her the flowers next, quickly explaining that she didn’t mean to mislead her.

“I just know you like violets,” Heather said. “And I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to return your feelings, but maybe one day. And um, finally, you said you’ve always wanted one, so…” She carefully gave Marissa the tiny basket, pulling back the soft blanket to reveal a tiny ball of quills. Marissa, who hadn’t said much, absolutely melted.

Carefully gathering the hedgehog up in her hands with the blanket, she softly cooed over it, already completely in love.

And though it wasn’t really the gifts that won Marissa over, however much she adored her new child, Heather was convinced it helped.

They met back at Marissa’s house that night to discuss things like rational adults. Marissa kept cuddling the hedgehog, and Heather couldn’t help but find it truly adorable.

“Really, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Heather insisted. She truly didn’t mind Marissa’s flirtations, and really was way more concerned with making Marissa feel awkward. She didn’t want to hug her or do anything inappropriate.

Eventually, they managed to establish some ground rules, but Marissa knew they’d never have the easy friendship of before. Still, if they could only ever be friends, Marissa didn’t mind at all. And for weeks, they managed just fine. Marissa knew Heather was trying her damnedest to act like she’d been, and she truly appreciated it, but Marissa knew how it was. She’d been in a similar situation before, though she’d never felt anything like she felt for Heather.

And then, one night after dinner, Heather kissed her.

“Oh, my god,” she gasped, wrenching away. “Marissa, I’m so sorry. I should have asked, or discussed it, or something. I really didn’t mean to take advantage of you, really.” Marissa hushed her. Hesitantly, she asked if Heather regret it. The redhead scrunched up her face, considering it. Slowly, she shook her head, a slow grin spreading across her face.

“It wasn’t really the best kiss I could give,” Marissa said slowly. “Perhaps you’d like another demonstration?” Heather laughed, leaning in. Marissa cupped her face, pulling her closer. She placed a gentle kiss on Heather’s lips, lightly sucking on her bottom one. Heather shivered, gripping Marissa’s bicep tightly.

After a long moment, they finally parted. Teasingly, Heather murmured that Marissa said it would be a real kiss. But she looked heavily dazed, and a soft flush spread down her neck to her chest.

“I’ll show you a real kiss,” Marissa whispered, her voice dropping nearly an octave. Heather shuddered, leaning back as Marissa straddled her lap. After reassuring her that, yes, this was most definitely okay, Heather settled her hands at Marissa’s hips.

Marissa reached around, unclipping Heather’s hair. Running her hands through it, she tugged at the curls. Pressing her body against Heather’s, she passionately kissed the pliant woman. Heather’s lips parted, allowing Marissa to slip her tongue into her mouth. Someone – Heather – let out a whimper.

 Marissa didn’t know for how long they kept it up, not stopping for a breath. But when at last Heather pulled away, gasping for air she couldn’t stop beaming. Marissa reverently touched her lips. Slowly she fully took in Heather’s disheveled appearance; her flushed face, mussed hair, smeared lipstick. God, she looked so beautiful.

Slowly, Heather’s eyes refocused, and her breathing eased. She didn’t, however, remove her hands from Marissa’s hips.

“Was, um, was that okay?” Marissa asked, biting her swollen lip.

“I think I’m finally sure,” Heather said, voice still breathy. “Marissa, will you go out with me?” And of course, Marissa gladly accepted.

And that night, both cozily tucked into their own beds, Marissa and Heather got themselves off to thoughts of that memory. They both fell asleep with sticky thighs and not a single guilty thought among them.

Though their first official date happened at a swanky restaurant most subsequent happened at each other’s homes. And though Heather assumed that things would be different from their previous dinners as just friends, she found herself pleasantly surprised.

The warmth and ease of their friendship remained, merely enhanced now. Marissa started flirting and teasing her once more. Something Heather had missed far more than she’d realized. The exasperated eye rolls, the subtle touches. Oh, god. She’d been dating Marissa without knowing it for months. Really, the only difference now was that they usually – but not always – ended up on the couch furiously making out while occasionally groping each other. And really, neither Marissa nor Heather was complaining in the slightest.

They hadn’t had sex yet. And as terrified as Heather felt about doing a piss poor job, she didn’t know how many more nights of passionately making out only to return home shaking with need she could take. And tonight, they’d planned to have dinner at Marissa’s.

Tonight, Heather decided, was the night. As long as Marissa wanted to as well, of course. She’d taken particular care with her outfit, spending far more time choosing her underwear than strictly necessary.

She knocked on the door, nervously adjusting the hem of her dress. She’d gone with high heels tonight, and she really hoped Marissa wouldn’t mind too much.

“Heather, you know you can use the key I gave-” Marissa’s mouth dropped open as she took in Heather’s appearance. For a long second, she simply stood there, the little hedgehog perched on her shoulder.

“Too much?” Heather asked uncertainly. “It’s too much. I don’t know what I was thinking. Here, I can go change.” Marissa pulled her inside, whispering that she looked beautiful in red. Heather smiled bashfully down at her tiny girlfriend before properly greeting the little hedgehog.

“Marissa, please,” Heather gasped after nearly an hour of necking. Somehow, she’d ended up on her back, her long legs wrapped around Marissa’s small hips. She unintentionally rolled her hips upward. Marissa pulled back slightly, trying to ascertain if Heather was truly sure. Heather nodded frantically, ridiculously turned on.

They hurriedly padded barefoot to Marissa’s bedroom, not bothering to waste time with slow and tender. They could save that for a time when Heather wasn’t almost shaking with need. Marissa tugged at the zipper on Heather’s dress, shoving the straps down off her shoulders. Heather frantically worked at Marissa’s belt, tugging her jeans down and off.

Finally, wearing just their underwear, they fell onto the bed, Marissa straddling Heather as usual.

“Wait,” Heather said, gently pressing a hand to Marissa’s shoulder. Immediately, Marissa backed off, raising her hands. “No, no, I want this. I just, um, can I do you first? You’ll have to tell me exactly what to do.” Marissa nodded, shivering slightly with anticipation. Heather smiled, easily flipping their positions.

“Normally I’d – oh – preach the importance of – oh, fuck – of foreplay, but I’m not sure I can wait,” Marissa said, trembling as Heather sucked at her neck without being told. “Fuck, I need you to touch me. You don’t need to – ah – to go down on me if you don’t want, but I need you to touch me.”

Determined to please her girlfriend, Heather carefully settled herself between Marissa’s parted legs. Listening to Marissa’s breathy but specific instructions, she used her fingers to part the smaller woman’s folds, exposing her most intimate parts to her gaze. Tentatively, she lowered her mouth, lapping at the copious wetness. She pulled back, considering the taste. To her surprise, she really didn’t mind the unique flavor.

“Stay – ungh – stay on my clit, please,” Marissa said, insistently moving her hips up. Unused to saying much during sex, Marissa tried not to feel self-conscious about her soft moans. When staying mostly silent, she didn’t have any issue restraining those soft sounds of pleasure, but when bidden to talk, she could barely hold them back. “There, that’s good. Fuck, just – mmh – just use the tip of your tongue. Ah! Fuck, too much. Not too much direct stimulation to the clit. Focus on the hood a bit like – yes! – like that.”

Heather became bolder the more she went on. She started to pay attention to the delightfully erotic noises Marissa made, repeating actions that elicited gasps or whimpers. Cheekily, she strayed off the indicated path, gently swirling her tongue over Marissa’s soft nether lips, tasting the wetness between them. Using the flat of her tongue, she slowly licked at the length of Marissa’s pussy before stiffening her tongue and quickly flicking at her clit. That made Marissa squeal slightly, bucking up.

“God, Heather,” she groaned. “I need to cum, please. Fuck, that’s it. Keep on the hood, no, down slightly. There! Oh, right there.”

It took several more minutes of steadily rapid stimulation for Marissa to show signs that she was close. Her gasps and moans came more readily, and her hands flew to Heather’s hair, holding her in place. She didn’t press down enough for Heather to feel like she couldn’t pull back if needed. But, determined to bring Marissa to the brink of ecstasy, Heather didn’t let up, doing her best to breathe through her nose.

“Close,” Marissa said, straining her neck. She clamped her thighs around Heather’s head, straining until she finally fell limp. Her orgasm softly caressed her rather than crashing over her, but Marissa didn’t mind at all.

“Not bad for your first time,” Marissa said, languidly stretching. She sighed, slowly sitting up to capture Heather’s lips in hers, lapping at her own juices. “Bet I can make you scream.” Marissa grinned at her, slowly dragging her fingertips across Heather’s upper chest. Heather trembled, quickly moving onto her back.

“Oh, god, don’t tease,” Heather begged after Marissa fluttered her tongue around her nipples and across her small breasts. “Marissa, please. Please, fuck me!” Marissa was all too happy to oblige, giving each nipple one last playful suck before descending lower.

Heather tried desperately to remember what Marissa did to send her into a frenzy for future reference, but as the smaller woman flicked and fluttered her tongue, and slowly eased her fingers inside Heather’s dripping pussy, all thoughts flew from her head. Completely at Marissa’s mercy, she could do little more than moan wantonly, until before long she came with a violent scream.

Boneless and spent, she twitched with the aftershocks of her pleasure. Looking all too proud of herself, though Heather supposed she deserved it, Marissa crawled up to the head of the bed, resting her chin on Heather’s shoulder.

“Stay,” Marissa whispered. Heather nodded, knowing she couldn’t have moved if she tried. Rolling over, she placed a soft kiss on Marissa’s lips, already beginning to doze off. Marissa smiled in affection, pulling the bedsheets over them both.

In just over nine months, Heather would put her house up for rent, and permanently move in with Marissa and their, now shared, child. This, of course, would open them up to all sorts of gossip around the block. In a cul-de-sac like this, nothing was ever what it seemed. But this, well, this little love story came damn close.

 


End file.
